


Blackmail Material

by Steamshovelmama



Series: Tumblr fic prompts [6]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steamshovelmama/pseuds/Steamshovelmama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this Anon fic prompt on Tumblr</p><p>"Henry’s in the hospital after an accident or surgery so he’s a really high pain meds that make it hard for him to stand w/o help. So when Abe goes home to get freshened up and rested after being in the hospital for so long Jo stays with Henry and ends up having to help Henry use the bathroom (pee). So a bit embarrassed Henry and understanding Jo. Maybe Jo cracking a Jo about Henry being big or something 2 ;)"</p><p>Well, this turned into nearly 3 000 words of hurt/comfort Henry & Jo friendship. Could be seen as preMortinez if you wanted.</p><p>Henry has been badly beaten, he insists on recovering at home but needs quite a bit of help. Abe calls on Jo for support.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackmail Material

“How is he?” Jo asked Abe, as he opened the shop door for her.

“Cranky,” said Abe, “but better than he would have been in hospital. He hates hospitals.”

Jo slipped her coat off. “But he’s a doctor!”

“Uh huh,” Abe took her coat. “He says all doctors and nurses hate hospitals. Seriously, he’ll rest better here and I can look after him.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Jo said sincerely as they mounted the stairs. “I know you’re close but this is above and beyond for most people.”

“Do me a favour,” Abe said, “Tell him that.” They reached the living area and he hung her coat up. “No, seriously, Henry’s spent a while looking after me. I can spare a week or so until he’s up and ordering everyone around again.”

“I guess you’re lucky to have each other then,” Jo said as she sat down on the couch.

“I guess we are,” Abraham agreed. For a moment there was a faraway look in his eyes then he seemed to shake it off.

“And we’re lucky to have you,” he said briskly. “Thanks for agreeing to keep an eye on him but I need to get some supplies in and I don’t want to leave him alone.”

“No problem.”

“He probably won’t wake up,” Abe said. “He’s had a big dose of painkillers and when he is awake he’s really dopy. Come on.” He beckoned her down the hallway to an open door.

Henry was fast asleep, his normally neat hair a riot of unruly curls that stood out in all directions. A faint but definite whistling snore could be heard.

Jo immediately decided that this scene had to be preserved for posterity. She pulled out her phone and started videoing.

Abraham looked amused. “Blackmail material?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah.  Next time he won’t do what I want I’ll threaten him with emailing this to every member of the precinct.”

He patted her shoulder. “You’re a woman after my own heart, Jo.”

Jo settled herself back on the couch, pulling a magazine out of her bag while Abraham gathered bags and his car keys. “I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours,” he told her. “I need to fill a prescription for Henry, and pick up food and stuff. If he wakes up in pain he can have one of these,” he rattled a bottle that was sitting on the coffee table. “Just note down what time he had it.”

“Okay. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Abraham smiled at her. “Jo you’re golden. Henry’s lucky in his friends.”

His sincerity made her a little uncomfortable. After all, she had come to rely on Henry too. He had been there for her so many times now, with his total lack of judgement and his ability to worm his way inside her defences while talking incessantly. It was actually good to be able to give something back.

 

The first hour passed quietly. Jo checked on Henry a couple of times. He seemed comfortable so she returned to the couch, finished her magazine and started the book she had brought. Henry’s and Abe’s home was peaceful, she reflected, though old fashioned, certainly: they had no TV, the only computer seemed to be Abe’s laptop and there was an old record deck but no CD player. The books lining the living room shelves were all cloth or leather bound classics. In some ways it was like stepping back in time to a quieter, slower lifestyle. It was… restful.

A movement from Henry’s room caught her attention. He had shuffled in bed a couple of times while she had been there, before lapsing back into sleep, so she just watched him from the doorway at first. His eyelids were fluttering and his breathing was less peaceful than it had been. As she watched, he seemed to flinch and his eyes shot open.

“No!” he said. “Don’t…” His eyes closed again but he was restless and obviously in the throes of a bad dream.

Jo perched on the side of his bed and nudged his shoulder. Henry mumbled in a distressed tone. “No… no… I was mistaken. Not again! Please!” His voice was rising on the last word so she shook his shoulder harder.

“Henry!” She called loudly. “Come on, Henry, wake up!”

His eyes opened and he looked round, not seeming to know where he was at first.

“Jo?” he asked slowly. His hair was wet with sweat and he was paler than before. “What are you doing here?”

“Abe asked me to look in while he went out for a while,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over by a tank,” he said. His eyes drooped again.

“Do you need another painkiller?”

He shook his head. “They give me bad dreams,” he said. His voice was slightly slurred. “Too many bad memories and the morphine lets them back in.”

She nodded. “Okay. Can I get you anything?”

“Water?” he asked.

“Can you sit up?”

He shoved at the mattress with arms that didn’t seem to coordinate well, finally resting on his elbows. Jo pulled him further up, stacking pillows behind him. The top pillow was unpleasantly damp and she flipped it before letting him rest back. She steadied his hand as he drank thirstily.

“Thanks,” his eyes closed for a moment again. The shoulders and collar of his pyjamas were dark with sweat and his skin looked clammy.

After a moment he screwed his face up. “When will Abraham get back?” he asked blurrily.

Jo shrugged. “I don’t know. He had a few errands. Maybe another hour or so?”

“Damn,” Henry mumbled.

“Why? What do you want?”

He managed a rueful smile. “Need the bathroom,” he said.

“Oh. Well, okay.” She considered. Their bathroom was only next door, in between Henry’s and what she assumed was Abe’s bedroom. “Wait a minute.”

She nipped into room, checked the floor for loose mats or anything else that might trip him. When she was sure the way was clear she returned to Henry.

“Can you stand?” she asked.

“Have to,” he grunted. He eased himself forward with a strangled groan. “Stiff,” he said. “Bruising. Causes soft tissue swelling. Hurts to move.”

She almost laughed. Only Henry could manage a lecture while high as a kite and recovering from a bad beating.

She helped ease him to the side of the bed. He swayed for a moment as he sat there.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. “I can find an old bottle or juice container if it’s easier.”

He gave her a ghost of his normal outraged look.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Here we go.” She tried to slide her arm under his but he cried out in pain and went even whiter.

“Sorry!”

He didn’t speak for a moment then, “Try the other side,” he whispered. “Not so many bruises. I was lying on that side.”

She swallowed down the horror and anger at his words and swapped sides.

“We’re going to get these bastards, Henry,” she said. “I give you my personal guarantee. I’m going to find them and catch them and make sure they are put away.”

He patted her hand where it lay on his shoulder. “Know you will,” he whispered. “You always look after me.”

That gave her a lump in her throat that she swallowed down fiercely. “Come on,” she said. “Lean on me.”

He gave her a lopsided smile as he took her at her word. He used the arm he had over her shoulder to press down hard and lever himself upright. He wobbled and she was forced to throw her other arm round his waist to steady him. He hissed in pain but held her hand there as he took a tentative step.

He could walk but it was slow, she discovered. He had to pause after every step, breathing heavily and she could tell it hurt him. He was soaked in sweat again and starting to feel cold. In fits and starts, step by painful step, they finally made it into the hall where Henry had to lean against the wall for several seconds.

Finally he nodded to her and they made it onto the tiled floor of the bathroom. She already knew she was going to have to stay with him; there was no way he would stay upright without leaning on her.

“Sit or stand?” she asked, briskly.

“Stand,” he said hoarsely.” Don’t think I’ll get up again if I sit. Sorry, Jo.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m a cop. Won’t be the worst thing I’ve done. At least you won’t actually pee on me which really has happened by the way.”

He managed a small choked laugh. “Do my best not to,” he promised. “just… remember I’m ill. No judgements.”

“Not sure I can promise that,” she said, joking. “After all, when else I am going to get a chance to check you out?”

He smiled, leaning his head against hers. “Anytime,” he said, matching her tone. “You only have to ask.”

“Henry,” she said sternly. “Just piss.”

“Yes ma’am,” he grumbled as he fumbled with his pyjama trousers. She kept one arm across his chest but turned away from him. There was the sound of falling water for several seconds accompanied by Henry’s sigh of relief. She flushed the toilet for him and helped him lean against the basin as he rinsed his hands.

The progress back was just as slow and Henry looked exhausted when they reached his bed. The sweat was running down his face and his pyjamas were soaked. Jo looked at him critically.

“You got some fresh pyjamas and sheets?” she asked.

He looked hopeful for a moment then shook his head. “Can’t ask you to do that,” he said. “You’ve done enough.”

“Henry,” she said sternly, “Fresh bedding, Where?”

There was no fight left in him. “Closet in the hall.”

There were fresh pillow slips, sheets and a quilt cover. She collected them and brought them back into the bedroom.

“Pyjamas?” she demanded.

“Top drawer,” Henry pointed a finger at the chest of drawers. He had evidently decided to go along with her. Well, if he was nearly as uncomfortable as he looked he’d probably live with the embarrassment.

She pulled out a pair of navy blue striped pyjamas and turned to look at him critically.

“You need a wash,” she said.

“Can’t,” Henry said shaking his head minutely. “Not up to it. Can’t stretch my arms enough. Abraham helped me this morning.”

She considered. “Will you let me help you?” she asked. “You won’t get a real rest feeling like that.”

There was a silence as she watched Henry fight with himself. Finally he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “There’s a bowl in the kitchen.”

She half-filled the bowl with warm water then checked the bathroom cupboard. Henry and Abe appeared to have a shelf each so it was easy to collect Henry’s shower gel. She considered the face wash and moisturiser but decided that might be a bit too much effort. There were clean towels in the hall closet and she picked up three.

Fully laden she carried the bowl to Henry’s bedside table and managed to wedge it on. Henry’s eyes were closed again but he was starting to look a little pinched around the mouth.

She laid a hand gently on his shoulder. He was very tense. “Henry, “she said gently. “I think you need that painkiller.”

He tried to shake his head, then winced and pursed his lips. “Alright,” he whispered.

She fetched the small pot of morphine pills and propped him up enough to swallow one down with the rest of his water. He lay back exhausted and closed his eyes again. She decided she’d wait a few minutes, let the pill start to work. If he fell asleep that was fine, if he didn’t she’d help him get comfortable.

After about ten minutes, she thought he had fallen asleep and was about to leave him when his eyelids opened again.  His eyes looked odd and when she leaned forward she saw is pupils had constricted down to small points. He coughed and rubbed his chest but the tight look on his face had softened and he had his colour back.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“Yesss,” he slurred, sounding thoroughly spaced out. “It still hurts a bit but I don’t care anymore. All relaxed.”

“Good. Shall we get you cleaned up?”

His head rolled on the pillow to look at her. “It would feel better,” he said, eyelids half closed.

Jo freshened the water in the bathroom and set the bowl back on the table. She held a flannel up to him. “Yours?”

He stared at the cloth for a moment. “Yes,” he decided.

“Fine,” Jo said wetting the flannel and ringing it out. “Can you wash your face?”

Henry tried to raise his arms, grunted and failed, then attempted to reach his face by bending his elbows. He looked at her helplessly. She rolled her eyes and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. She rinsed the flannel and dampened his hairline and the back of his neck. He smiled broadly.

“S’nice,” he said drunkenly

“Good.” She started unbuttoning his pyjama top as he was evidently helpless right then. “Henry, you have no idea of the blackmail material I’m gathering here. You’re going to be in my power for the next ten years – oh, god!”

A spray of black bruising covered the entirety of Henry’s left shoulder and arm, extending across his chest and down over his stomach, disappearing beneath his pyjama pants. Lesser bruising now turning purple mottled his right arm.

“They did a good job,” Henry mumbled. “Lucky I fell on my right, could have damaged my liver if they’d got me there.”

She laid a gentle hand on his chest. “I knew it was bad but I didn’t know… Henry, _why_ aren’t you in hospital?”

“Better here,” he said. “Nothing to do, just pain killers and rest. It’ll heal. Don’t fret, Jo. There’s no lasting damage.” He patted her arm before his hand slid off and landed on the bed.

“I don’t like seeing you like this.” she said.

“Not very fond of being like this.”

Jo managed a laugh and started to sponge his chest. He sighed and closed his eyes again. She very gently patted him dry and urged him to lean forward against her as she wiped his back. He rested his head on her shoulder his breath tickling her neck.

“Y’r very good at this,” he said. “Where’d you learn to do this?”

“Babysitting my niece,” she said. “Both of you have a habit of getting into trouble and needing cleaning up.”

He snorted as she slid the pyjama jacket onto his left arm then tensed.

“Sorry.”

“S’okay,” he said, grimacing as she helped him bend his other arm into a sleeve. “Like I said, I can feel it but it’s like, ummm…” his voice faded out as she buttoned the jacket. “Like feeling things through a warm blanket,” he finished off.

She nodded and covered him with the quilt. “Can you get your pants off?” she asked.

He grinned weakly at her. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

“You should be so lucky,” she retorted.

He wriggled uncomfortably under the quilt. “Um, yes, that’s it, if you can pull the legs.”

She flipped the bottom of the quilt up and grabbed the cuffs of his pants, tugging them down. Wrestling him into the fresh ones was more difficult. There was no problem getting his feet into the legs and pulling them up to his knees but Henry wasn’t able to reach down to pull them up.

“Roll on your side,” she told him. He nodded and she worked from the side of the bed to pull the waistband up to his hips. They repeated it to the other side and Henry was able to work them up the rest of the way.

“This is exhausting,” he muttered. He was pale again and starting to sweat.

“Just lie there for a few minutes,” she told him starting to clear everything away.

Changing his bed took only took her a few minutes. By the time Henry had rolled to allow his bottom sheet to be changed his eyes were drooping in earnest. He settled back on the fresh pillowslips and sighed.

“Thank you, Jo,” he said faintly. “You’re much gentler than Abraham.”

“I expect he’s angry with you for worrying him like this,” she said, smiling.

“Aren’t you?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “Just wait until you’re fit again. I’m going to give you hell.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he managed to open his eyes fully. “Look forward to it.”

“You should sleep again,” she told him. “I’ll tidy the sheets away.”

“No!” He grasped her wrist, “Stay with me. At least until I’m asleep. Talk to me.”

“What,” she sat on the side of the bed.

“Talk to me,” he said. “Bad memories, bad dreams. The morphia. Hearing your voice reminds me where I am when I get confused.”

“Alright,” she agreed, touched by words. “What should I talk about?”

“Anything,” he mumbled. “tell me about your family, how you became a detective, anything.”

“And you’ll go back to sleep?” she asked.

“Mmm hmm,” he agreed, still holding her wrist.

“Okay,” she said and started talking about her parents as his eyes closed.

 

 


End file.
